The Favour
by LoveHP
Summary: "Curiosity is not a sin, Harry…" Harry wasn't so sure Dumbledore was right about that one, right now. A Harry/Bellatrix one-shot. AU.


**The Favour**

***I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does***

**AU**

**Implied H/G but *gasps* it's Harry/Bellatrix.**

**Rated for adult themes and situations.**

* * *

Dark thoughts filled Harry Potter's mind. Crisscrossing emotions of fear, revenge and determination prickled his soul like tiny shards of glass when he entered the unlit room. He could sense the dread seeping off the walls, churning into a cold mist, and the echo of screams resounding as water drops shattered onto stone. It was raining outside, raining so hard that the world looked like a giant lace curtain, pulled down to hide the misery behind it.

His wand was out, outstretched and ready for another kill. Voldemort was long dead, but the memories lived on as bright as his illuminated wand. Its light danced off the glistening walls, and in its reflection he saw something distorted.

He turned around, and his heart leapt and then contracted. He was shrewd enough to realise that he was the victim of a glorious deception.

There she was, Ginny, with her hair giving the dark room a fresh breath of colour. He hadn't seen that beautiful shade of red for a long while. The world had become dull since many of his friends perished, leaving him alone and wandering like a lost soul, always hungry, never finding sustenance.

"Hello, Harry," she said, her voice so seductive, so real, that he wanted to rush forward and hold her in his arms. He hadn't felt warmth and passion for awhile either, but he knew better than to follow these impulses.

"Show yourself, Bellatrix!" he snarled.

Imposter Ginny smiled. Her eyes turned toward the floor, lashes pressed upon cheeks, as she playacted innocent submission like Botticelli's La Primavera. Beneath the shell of inferiority, however, lay the power and dominance Ginny could never muster.

"I almost liked you better when you thought I was her the last time," Bella smirked, and with a casual shake of her head, her original features returned. Her hair was longer than ever, with streaks of grey. Her eyes were heavier and darker than he remembered. "How long has she been rotting away now? Is it three years?"

Harry didn't move. He froze, fingers gripping his wand so hard he thought he'd break it. Blots of red marked his vision as he struggled to maintain control over his emotions.

"Ahhh, you've learned a lot haven't you, dear Harry. You're not such an idiot anymore now, are you? That's my boy, keep those emotions hidden." She crossed her arms, waiting for him to retort or attack.

"You killed Sirius... you killed her-"

"_Tsk, tsk, tsk_. You killed my Master first, and then my husband, I was merely returning the favour. Now, if things fall my way tonight I shall avenge the Dark Lord." She walked toward him, like a sleek, black cat.

"I don't think you'll have that chance." He pressed his wand into Bella's chest as she strode confidently within his space; right in the middle, over her cold murderous heart.

"Go on." She looked at him, eyes in line with his, flashing with sheer dare. "You don't have the guts," Bella said mocking him, tongue running over her teeth. Her eyes laughed at him, urging him to make the wrong move.

Bella's index finger slowly moved the wand away from her chest, her little finger waving delicately in the air. Harry wanted to point it back at her, but he couldn't. Curiosity was eating at him.

_Curiosity is not a sin, Harry…_

Harry wasn't so sure Dumbledore was right about that one, right now.

"You liked it last time, didn't you?" Bellatrix hissed. Harry kept staring at her lips. "You struggled a bit, fought against me when you realised I wasn't _her,_ but you fell so gracefully in the end... though it might've been the dagger in your chest which made you so still...I'm not sure. But I still took you… you were _mine_." She took in a deep breath.

The words finally sunk into the misty depths of his mind. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Christ, I'm not foolish enough-"

"Oh, you're still foolish. You may not be a baby anymore - a man - but you are still foolish." Her words cut deep.

"Stop toying with me!"

"Hush now, dear Harry. You want to take me," she hissed, closing the distance between them. Her fingers pressed on his shoulders one at a time, soft and deadly, like spider legs. But before her wet lips touched his, Harry turned away, shunning her.

"I want to kill you instead," he whispered, shaking his head of the screams. His screams.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual," she whispered in return, into his ear. Her warm breath made him shiver. "But wouldn't it be nice to die after one last… _pleasure_?"

Her sneaky hands were at him, and he jolted. Harry turned to face her and pushed her forcefully away. She smacked against the wall. Her knees buckled, but she stopped herself from falling, her fingers digging into the ancient grout between stones.

"Don't touch me," Harry spat, wand at her again.

She laughed, panting, strands of hair covering her face, masking her eyes. She whipped out her wand. "Now, now, no need to be so brutal-"

"Just returning the favour," Harry sneered.

Now it was his turn to approach her. He cornered her, was right over her. She was smiling beneath that veil of hair, eyes trained on him like he was a wounded mouse she wished to gobble up. Against better judgement, he lowered his wand to a rip in her black robes, pressing it into the speck of skin showing through. She almost glowed in the dull room now. Harry dug his wand into the fabric hole and slowly, so softly, he lifted her layers of worn dress. He wanted her to scream just like he had, to pay for everything she'd done to him-

Bellatrix chuckled, and he looked up, tearing his gaze away from her pale skin. The numbness in his head eased, and he became aware of the tuneful sound of hot blood rushing through his veins.

"Well, go on boy..." Impatience laced her voice. "We haven't got till tomorrow, do we?"

**Please review! Luv ya lots if you do!**


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